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TrinityCowgirl

PostPosted: Tue Jul 21, 2009 8:15 pm


Who: Annabel and Chris
When: Late Night, Day 7
Where: Where else? (THE WAVEMACHINE~)


User Image It was probably fool-hearted, coming to the wave machine after what she'd done today. Despite not having been there for his breakdown, Annabel was well aware that her actions would have dire consequences. Still, there was a naive, foolish part of her that was hoping that at least by dropping the shirt back, she'd regain some of the host's trust. Simon, at least, had been assured that she no longer meant harm. She was here for him- not for herself, nor for Chris. Those were just the added in benefits.

It might've helped, in hindsight, going and getting her regular shirt before heading out. Now, she'd have to be on her luckiest- to simply drop the shirt and run like hell to recover her decency. The thought of Simon seeing her in a bra didn't bother her- the poor boy had already seen her naked, after all. No, it was the thought of other campers- or another certain someone- finding her that sent shivers to the base of her spine.

Quietly stopping at the clearing's entrance, Annabel paused a moment to look around- to make sure the host wasn't here surfing- before tentatively taking her entrance. Still on guard and paranoid, she quickly walked about the area, checking to make sure no cameras were on her, and Chris hadn't set up anything to use against her. With a timid sort of confidence- the nervous mouse believing it had beaten the trap- Annabel gave one final scan of the area.

Well, if he definitely wasn't here, she might as well do this as quickly as possible...
PostPosted: Tue Jul 21, 2009 8:25 pm


The cameras were indeed still turned away from the machine, and on initial glance it appeared to be trap -and- Chris free.

Hehehehehehe...

Somewhere in the shadows around the wavemachine lurked an Audio, but Annabel would have no warning of them. The first sign of something wrong was a quick jab to the shoulder thanks to a lovely dart now sticking out of it.

This, however, wasn't one of the usual tranq darts. Nope, this time Chris had gotten rather devious and filled it with a mild paralyzing agent. Not enough to do any permanent damage, but for a good long while Annabel would have the sensation of jelly legs and rather useless arms. It'd feel much like her limbs had been put to sleep, but no real way to 'wake' them.

She's be able to struggle and move slightly, but getting up and walking out of here was out of the question until it wore off.

Chris McLean
Crew


TrinityCowgirl

PostPosted: Tue Jul 21, 2009 8:43 pm


User Image The sensation of a p***k in her neck had been all the warning Annabel received- just as she'd gone to swat what she believed to be a mosquito, her arms had failed her, once more dropping back to her sides. Eyes widened, Annabel could feel herself falling, unable to keep herself from dropping to her knees, then the ground. More so than the original darting, in her opinion, this was horrific- she could still consciously see and hear everything, minus the ability to actually move. In a very sad and desperate attempt, she'd managed to wriggle all of about three inches before she'd exhausted herself. It wasn't that it hurt, or anything, it was that everything crucial to moving had suddenly gone numb.

Very presently, every warning flag in her mind was going off. There wasn't even room to pretend cockiness or confidence- her ears were pinned back and the girl was whimpering. The day's earlier hoots, hollers, and sobs had left her entirely unable to bring her voice above normal volume- and hardly even there- without a painful sort of crack hitting her throat. So not only was she entirely useless to move, but yelling was entirely out of the question.

So much for quickly getting back to Simon.

Eyes whirling about the area in a desperate attempt to find what had tagged her, Annabel was entirely at a loss, minus blaming the host. And it wasn't entirely unreasonable to believe- she'd definitely ******** with the guy earlier. Christ, this had just been a horrible idea- riling him up yet again, then wandering straight into the bowels of his territory. She was Odysseus going off to war- and she'd just entered the Siren's territory without tying herself to the mast. God, at the very least, she could've told Simon how to come find her. But no. ******** hell, she still had a shred of loyalty to the Rat b*****d.

Unable to keep from whimpering as she panicked, Annabel wondered just how the hell she was going to make it out of this one unscathed.
PostPosted: Tue Jul 21, 2009 9:18 pm


User ImageEverything around the clearing was silent. At first it'd seem like the dart had simply been a trap set up and no one was actually -here-.

But then, in the small section of the treeline Annabel could actually see, the shadows shifted as something moved within them. It was an Audio, wearing all black...and when it slunk closer she'd recognize it as Chris.

Said host flopped to the ground, sitting before the paralyzed Annabel.
"Whatcha up to dude?"
Upset? Yeah he was still pretty upset, but at the moment he looked...okay. Hrm...

Chris McLean
Crew


TrinityCowgirl

PostPosted: Tue Jul 21, 2009 9:37 pm


User Image The second the Audio came into the clearing, Annabel started writhing in panic. Apparently, she'd been trying to scream, yell, something of that nature, only to have it come out as harsh little bursts of air. Oh lord, this was not good. Annabel might not've been a terribly religious girl, but she was definitely praying for anyone to come save her at this point. There was a sort of maddened desperation in it, very well knowing that nobody was going to come- this spot was still secret. Hidden. And she's damned well done her best to keep it private knowledge from Simon, Ariel, and everyone else.

And oh, look how well that was going for her now.

Chest rising and falling erratically as she seemed to be fighting back sobs, Annabel weakly turned her head away from Chris- unable to bring herself to face him. She was not, it seemed, the brave sort who could look death in the eyes and laugh. (Even assumed death, in this situation.) No, for all her bragging and swagger, the girl was having a right mental breakdown to level Chris's earlier one, had she been able to utter anything at a loud volume. But for now, she was terrified and silently, desperately working to curl in on herself. Despite her earlier thoughts she had, in fact, lost.

Turning one eye to look at him with desperation and defeat, she managed a very cracked, hoarse whimper.

"Apologizing wouldn't do any good here, would it."

She'd lost, and known it. Nobody was coming to save her.

As usual, it seemed, Chris had won.
PostPosted: Tue Jul 21, 2009 9:48 pm


User Image"Apologizing isn't going to take back what happened on camera dude."
No, no amount of 'I'm sorry' was going to take back the fact she started the little stripping-fest that led to his scar being shown. And as quickly as Chef had scooped him up he was certain at least a camera had gotten a shot...he, afterall, set them up to capture -everything-.

Everything except this clearing. Hehehehe.

Getting back to his paws, the host walked in a calm little circle around the girl. It was her fault really. -She- had ticked him off. -She- had started all this. And then she stupidly came to the one spot he visited almost every night. It was like she was simply -asking- to get her butt handed to her.

Well, Chris was more than willing to carry this out. With a rather sick and -scary- smile he tilted his head to eye her...before giving her a rather harsh kick to the side. It'd be enough to flip her over so she was laying on her back, and he'd be able to sit on her stomach.

"Remind you of anything, dude?"
It had only been hours before that Annabel was perched on the host's back to pin him down. Now here they sat, the tables turned, and Annabel treated to a rather nice view of a sadistic-grinning Chris.
"How's it feel?"
...Probably a good thing the cameras weren't catching this because it could be taken -rather wrong-, but that thought was far -far- from Chris' mind.

Chris McLean
Crew


TrinityCowgirl

PostPosted: Tue Jul 21, 2009 10:10 pm


User Image Oh god, she was going to die. Off camera, in some secluded part of the woods, she was going to die, and nobody would ever know. They'd all think it had been an accident; woodland creatures, sharks, her own stupidity, something like that. Her mind was reeling in terror at all the possible ways she could die on this island, and how many of them were at the host's very paws. God, she'd really ******** this one up; even as a sometimes-called Goth kid who read Poe, Jesus CHRIST she didn't want to die. Not this young, not like this, not at this man's will..

With a horrible yelp of pain at the kick, Annabel easily turned to her back- sprawled and subject to Delilah's will. Breathing raggedly partly out of pain and partly out of fear, the metaphorical Samson was very quickly beginning to lose hope- while fear still lit her eyes, everything else seemed to be slowly fading. What point was there in fighting back when she clearly couldn't moved, and wasn't going to be saved? Biting her lower lip to keep from crying seemed useless, even- tears were slowly but surely rolling down her cheeks.


"Probably like you did earlier..." Annabel weakly ground out, voice now humbled and sounding terribly regretful. Blinking slowly to clear her eyes once more, she simply watched with resignation as Chris simply added insult to injury, perching upon her in a mock-up of the day's earlier events. Finally unable to look on him in shame, her head lulled to the side.

"Wasn't... thinking." She offered weakly, knowing very well it wouldn't do her any good now. Chest still heaving in pain and sorrow, she very weakly continued.

"Couldn't... felt bad. Came to return it. ...The shirt. ...Regret it. ...Too much for the cameras.
" Too anyone else, the mumbling would be incoherent- mad, even- but hopefully, at least some of it would reach Chris's ears- even if it was far too late to do any good.

"...Deserve it, but... m'sorry."


Lord, the pain was getting to her mind- and Chris's sitting on her definitely wasn't helping the spot. Whimpering slightly, Annabel winced, desperately wishing the pain away.
PostPosted: Tue Jul 21, 2009 10:32 pm


User ImageThe host snarled in her face.
"You knew! You were the only one on this -entire- island besides Chef who knew about it dude, and you just..."
Chris bit his lip. -Her- pain wasn't really upsetting (thought the hints of that uncomfortable feeling in his gut were there, it was quickly covered up with sadistic glee), but damn if he didn't want to remember that whole scar-incident earlier. To others he was probably making a mountain out of a molehill, but that was his -trigger-, the thing that he expected everyone to respect and when the one person who actually knew about it went against it....

Yeah.

"Can't say I'm sorry dude. You deserve it."
But he shifted, ever so slightly. And in that slight shifting it seemed like some of the pressure was taken off Annabel. At least he wasn't out to -kill- her. He tilted his head as she continued to talk, ears perked to listen. ...Huh? Brought his shirt back? ..Well really that was a very -small- part of why he was so bent out of shape.

Humming happily to himself, the host produced a sharpie from his pocket.
"By the way...don't get too excited. I mean, I know you dig me and all.."
The tone of his voice was heavily laced with sarcasm.
"But this is just payback, and nothing more."
And then the happy hums resumed and Chris quickly stripped his stolen shirt off of Annabel. Afterall, with her inability to struggle it was pretty darn easy.

If this was another time, another place...man he probably would have lingered on this moment. But Chris was rather consumed by his need for revenge. So it was only a moment's hesitation before he took the sharpie and wrote nice and big across the trapped female's chest
"CHRIS. WAS. HERE."
He spoke each word as it was written, snickering as he finished up. That done, he put the sharpie back in his pocket and used a free paw to run through her hair...much like she had done earlier.
"Enjoy Belbel."
More snickers, and then the weight was suddenly lifted. Chris gathered his discarded shirt and stood up, leaving Annabel to lay on the ground.

Chris McLean
Crew


TrinityCowgirl

PostPosted: Tue Jul 21, 2009 10:51 pm


User Image She hardly reacted when the host snarled in her face, aside from the slight attempt she gave to pull her head back. It had been over the line- again, it'd seem her ability to practice restraint was coming back to bite her in the a**. Literally, this time. Still unable to keep herself from crying, Annabel looked up to Chris, broken. The fight- even that of fear, desperation to stay alive, was gone. Now, it simply looked as if she were desperately begging for mercy, hair matted and body weakly trembling.

No, she hadn't really expected anything but payback when he'd walked into the field. Now she was just finally expecting it. There was a slight breath of relief when Chris moved from the position he was in, taking the pressure off of her wounded side, but not enough to entirely ease the pain- physically or emotionally. There wasn't even a flicker of movement from the defeated girl when he moved to strip her of her shirt, or lean over to scrawl across her chest. It was perfect, really- a physical stigmata to match her emotional one. The host was right, of course- this was entirely what she deserved. At the comment of payback, she'd nodded weakly- of course this was what she'd deserved.

Her eyes fell once more at the use of her 'loving petname' from the host- this time, a resignation from watching or hoping. Now, she was alone to her thoughts, the crying taking her a bit more readily. Sprawled on her back, shirtless and marred, Annabel remained in the clearing, not even attempting to worm her way through the woods. In her current state, the little inching she could do would bring nothing more than exhaustion and pain- particularly when she hit the trees. So instead, she did what she never thought she'd do here.

Annabel gave up.

If Chris had been listening at all as he left, he might've heard the repeated murmurings of 'I'm so sorry' and 'God, forgive me', each weaker than the last as Annabel retreated into the crumbling sanctuary of her own mind.

But that was, of course, only if he cared to listen.
PostPosted: Tue Jul 21, 2009 11:06 pm


User ImageChris' tail swished, the host giving a last look over his 'work' before turning to leave.
"You'll be fine. That stuff will wear off in the morning and you'll be good as new. See ya in camp~"

If Annabel had been in a better position, she would have taken note of Chris' shivers and trembles as he headed off. The consuming -rage- gone, he was left to dwell on his not-so-happy thoughts from earlier. He, honestly, wanted to go hide under his bed again. ...Or at least just in his RV. He'd had enough of everything for today.

Ears twitched as the murmurings caught his attention. Hrm...
"Don't think I'm letting you out of our alliance so easily..."
Even while trembling he found the nerve to grin back at her. She wasn't in any condition to remark on -his- behavior after all.
"-Maybe- when you clean yourself up I'll grace you with my awesome presence and we can work this out. But not tonight. I'm going to bed. Enjoy your night Belbel!"
The last had been said in a singsong voice, the host already out of the clearing and working his way back to his RV.

Chris McLean
Crew

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Camp Wawanakwa (Closed for now)

 
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